Military Fiction: THE MAC WALKER COLLECTION: A special ops military fiction collection...

by D. W. Ulsterman

  Mac sensed yet more of that inner conflict emanating from the sheriff.

  “Have you been told to keep me here?”

  Sheriff Baxter Green blinked quickly several times as soon as Mac posed the question, indicating to Mac that was exactly what was happening.

  “Why would you say that Mr. Walker?”

  Mac took a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

  “Why wouldn’t you deny it Sheriff?”

  The sheriff stood up from his chair and reached a hand out toward the holding room’s door.

  “Just doing our due diligence Mr. Walker. I’ll have someone in shortly to give you something to drink.”

  Five minutes after sitting with Mac Walker, Sheriff Green sat in his office with his second in command, Officer Rory Wilkes. Wilkes had served eight years as a United States Marine before returning home to pursue a career in law enforcement. He had been a member of the Henderson Police Department for twelve years where he was well regarded for his insightful nature and respectful attitude toward the responsibilities inherent in his job. He was also something of an accomplished marathon runner, his lean six foot frame often seen swiftly navigating down the many surrounding urban roads just outside the Henderson city limits. Sheriff Green had come to value and depend on Wilkes’ opinion a great deal.

  “I can’t quite wrap my head around this one Rory. That guy in there, his record shows he’s former military. Navy SEAL. Then after that time period…it’s like he disappeared for the last ten years. I’ve got some asshole from the FBI office in Lexington telling me to keep him here, but so far, everything on the shooting says self defense clear as day to me. Dispatch says the same FBI person called them before dispatch called us. How in the hell did that happen? This guy Walker some kind of terrorist or something? He sure don’t strike me as that. Seems like a straight up like it is kind of guy.”

  Officer Wilkes was looking at the monitor in Sheriff Green’s office that displayed the holding room. He stared at the figure of Mac Walker sitting calmly in the chair, his hands still handcuffed behind him.

  “He’s definitely been in the shit before. Look how calm he is. Not a bit of sweat on him, breathing normally. He looks like he’s on his couch at home.”

  Sheriff Green glanced at the same screen Officer Wilkes was staring at.

  “Yeah – and he just blew the head off another man not more than a couple hours ago.”

  Wilkes looked back at the sheriff, his eyebrows raising slightly.

  “Means he’s done it before. It’s his job. Probably one of those post-military contract guys.”

  The sheriff eyes widened as he looked back again at Mac’s image as he sat inside the holding room.

  “Those guys are really out there? You talking mercenary types?”

  Wilkes nodded.

  “Oh yeah – they’re out there. Spend years getting special forces training and experience, get used to the adrenaline rush of that kind of work, but also want to be making a lot more than military pay. I’m almost positive that’s what we have sitting in our holding room right now.”

  Sheriff Green’s office phone rang. He looked at the caller identification and then scowled back at Wilkes.

  “Shit – it’s that new U.S. Marshall regional supervisor from Louisville. Only met him once and that was enough. Guy is a complete dick.”

  Both the sheriff and Officer Wilkes stared down at the still ringing phone. Finally on the fifth ring, the sheriff took the call.

  “Sheriff Green. Go ahead. Yes sir, that’s right. Yes, we are holding him now here at the station. No, he has not been arrested. No sir. You’re flying a chopper? From Louisville? I understand. I’m sorry, what was that? Uh-huh. If I might ask, this does not seem to be a jurisdictional issue for the Marshalls Office. Right. No, I don’t----ok. Yes. Well…I still don’t agree with that, but if you want to burn a trip, that’s your call sir. Fine. See you then.”

  The sheriff hung up the phone and looked back at Wilkes.

  “The Louisville Federal Marshalls Office supervisor just told me him and another guy from the FBI’s Civil Rights Division is taking a chopper here to pick up Mr. Walker. That make any sense to you? Civil Rights Division? What the hell is that about? He just kept repeating it was a federal matter and that we were to hand him over, just like that. No questions.”

  Rory Wilkes folded his arms across his chest as he continued to watch Mac Walker sit motionless in the holding room.

  “What are you gonna do Sheriff?”

  Sheriff Green shrugged as he held his hands out to his sides.

  “It’s the FEDS, what choice I got? I hand him over.”

  “But you don’t like it, do you? Something’s not right here. You feel it too.”

  Sheriff Green knew Wilkes was right. Something was definitely wrong with this situation. The Walker guy didn’t even try to get away back at the gas station. He just dropped his weapon, put his hands on his head, and waited to be cuffed. That didn’t sound like the actions of a highly trained and capable mercenary type. And then there was that drone that flew over their heads at the same time they were arresting Walker. Sheriff Green was no expert on those things, but it sure as hell looked like the drone was armed with at least two missiles under its wings. No way that was just coincidence. And what about the involvement of the Marshalls Office and the DOJ? How did they know about Walker’s presence in Henderson so fast?

  No, something was not right about any of this, and Sheriff Baxter Green intended to find out what it was.

  VI.

  Mac heard the voice of someone new entering the Henderson Police Station. It was deeply accented, possibly Saudi, though it was difficult to know for certain hearing it spoken through the metallic door of the holding room. Mac watched as the large form of Sheriff Green stepped in front of the small section of glass in the door, his voice rising above the others in the main area of the police station.

  “Now look here, Mr. Walker has not been charged with anything, but he is currently in the custody of the Henderson Police Department. Without the proper paperwork, I am not going to release him into your custody. That is final, sir. I am sorry, but I need some kind of record that I can place in my own files that offers proof of why Mr. Walker was released into your custody.”

  “Sheriff, Mr. Walker is of interest to the United States government. You were told you on the phone, we were coming here to get him and bring him with us. Now bring him out of that room and hand him over, now!”

  The man’s accent was definitely Saudi – likely some kind of affiliate of Dasha Al Marri. Mac marveled at the extent of the woman’s influence. Seems the evil bitch had her claws everywhere.

  Another voice could be heard speaking, this one calmer than the Saudi’s, though just as determined to see Mac handed over to them.

  “Sheriff Green, I appreciate your steadfast determination to be by the book, as it were. I’ve given you my credentials. You know I’m the supervisor of the Marshalls Office out of Louisville, and I’m working in conjunction with the Federal Bureau of Investigation on this one. And I assure you, we have the authority to take Mr. Walker into our custody.”

  Mac could hear Sheriff Green’s voice growing even louder.

  “I ain’t doing anything until I make some calls. I don’t care if you’re DOJ, CIA, FBI, until I get some kind of authorization form a source I know, what you really are is shit out of luck. So please take a seat over there until then. I’m gonna have Officer Wilkes here step inside the holding room with Mr. Walker while we are all waiting to see what is what. Nobody is allowed in that room except him – or me. Don’t test me on that now, understand?”

  Mac didn’t hear a response to the Sheriff’s demand, though the door to the holding room opened to reveal the man who must have been Officer Wilkes. He appeared to be around forty, with a lanky build, thinning reddish brown hair, and a way of moving that indicated former military training.

  “What kind of service?”

  Wilkes paused a
few seconds before settling into the seat across from Mac.

  “Eight years, Marine Corps. How’d you know?”

  Mac nodded slightly, a faint smile on his face.

  “I thought it was Marines. You have the walk.”

  Officer Wilkes looked back at Mac and returned his smile as he folded his hands on top of the small metal framed desk that sat between them.

  “Your records indicate you were a Navy SEAL. Is the program as tough as they say?”

  Mac silently found himself liking this Officer Wilkes. He seemed to be the kind of guy every police force in America would be better off for having.

  “It’s tough – but the ones who make it, they adapt. They push out the pain, the hunger, make their bodies learn to make do. Then it gets easier. Basically the same thing a Marine goes through, just a bit more…intense.”

  Wilkes leaned forward in his chair and whispered back to Mac.

  “What the hell did you get yourself into Mr. Walker to have these people so anxious to move you out of here?”

  Mac glanced out through the small square of glass in the door before his eyes settled back on Officer Wilkes.

  “Not going to say anything on that Officer. It would put you in danger - all of you. Frankly, you’re probably already in it to some degree, so how about we do a little don’t ask and don’t tell, and call it good?”

  Wilkes chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.

  “The sheriff has got the scent of something not setting right with any of this, and he’s a stubborn one for the particulars. He don’t aim to give up so easy.”

  Mac shook his head slowly as his eyes glanced upward toward the room’s low ceiling.

  “Your Sheriff Green won’t have much say in any of this in about an hour. Those people out there are just the first layer. The ones they answer to are already calling your mayor, or county officials, or maybe the governor. Pretty soon the sheriff will be threatened to give me up or kiss his career goodbye, and that’ll be that. I’m surprised you all have held out this long actually. Don’t see many people willing to push back against the government these days. It’s all about covering your own ass, right?”

  Officer Wilkes’ eyes narrowed slightly as his head tilted slightly to the left.

  “You sure seem comfortable over being handcuffed in here. Not your first time I suppose?”

  It was Mac’s turn to chuckle.

  “Oh no, been dumped into a few clinks around the world. Compared to them, this place is a five star resort. My biggest concern right now isn’t for me – it’s for you and your department. I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me. That’s why I’d rather have the sheriff let me go with those people. Get me away from here and all of you can go back to your job. Go back to just living your lives. Or better yet, if you have a family – get out of here. I mean really go somewhere away from everything.”

  Wilkes again leaned toward Mac.

  “What do you mean get away? Why would I do that?”

  “Do you have a family Officer Wilkes?”

  Wilkes nodded his head, his eyes moving between anger and concern over the question.

  “Yeah, married with two girls.”

  Mac closed his eyes briefly and inhaled and exhaled slowly.

  “Start thinking about leaving with them. Get as far away from – if you got a cabin or something like that, make it your new home.”

  Officer Wilkes’ voice betrayed both his interest and agitation over what Mac was telling him.

  “What are you getting on about Mr. Walker? Do you think there’s going to be some kind of attack? A threat? War? What is it?”

  Mac’s eyes again looked past Wilkes and through the holding room door’s glass window.

  “All of those things Officer Wilkes. Just keep your eyes and ears open. If those people out there and the people they work for get their way, you won’t recognize America in a few years. If you love your wife and kids, please trust what I’m telling you right now.”

  As the door behind him opened, Wilkes continued to stare over at Mac Walker. There was something in the man’s tone that convinced the police officer Mac believed every word of his warning to Wilkes.

  It was at that moment Officer Wilkes decided he believed Mac Walker’s words too.

  VII.

  The rumbling sound of heavy vehicles sent shudders through the floor and walls of the Henderson Police Department station. Mac recognized the sound well – basic M35 transport vehicles, common to the National Guard. That meant Dasha’s people had already contacted and convinced the Kentucky governor to make certain Mac didn’t escape.

  Sheriff Green’s large frame entered through the holding room, the sheriff closing the door behind him. He turned to face Mac, his face a mix of confusion and apprehension.

  “Boy, I don’t know what you did, but man do you have some people wanting to get their hands on you.”

  Mac leaned back in his chair and offered the faintest of smiles to the sheriff.

  “I told you it was only a matter of time sheriff. By the sounds of it, the governor has put in a call to secure the area with the National Guard.”

  Sheriff Green leaned against a wall and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Yup – got an armory just down the road from here. I know the guy in charge there real well, he’s a sergeant. We played high school football together. Thinking maybe I can have a talk with him and try to get some answers on all this.”

  Mac shook his head.

  “Sheriff, please don’t get yourself anymore involved in this. It won’t make any difference. Those people out there want me, and that is that. I’m not sure why just yet. Maybe they just want to kill me. I’ll be finding that out soon enough.”

  “How can you sit there so calm then if you think they’re going to kill you?”

  Mac looked over at Officer Wilkes and then moved his head from side to side trying to work out a kink in his neck.

  “Because there’s nothing I can do about it right now. I don’t waste energy worrying over things I don’t control. Plus, like I said, don’t want any of you getting hurt on my account, and at this point, even if I were to escape, they would place the blame on you, and you don’t want these people doing that. They don’t play nice, and they sure as hell don’t play fair.”

  Sheriff Baxter Green gave a short huff of breath as he wagged a finger back at Mac.

  “I’ve been watching over the people of this city for more than a few years now Mr. Walker, and seen and done a few things myself. I’m not so afraid of those people out there as I am over turning a person in my custody over without due process. That’s just how I am. Need to know what the hell I’m doing before doing it, and so far, all they’ve given me are threats and now a few big trucks parked outside my station!”

  The sheriff’s cell phone rang. He looked down at the number and then shook his head as he put the phone to his ear.

  “Yes Mr. Mayor, good morning sir. Well now, we do have a bit of a situation here at the station, yes. I imagine a few people are wondering what’s going on. Related to the shooting? Yes, yes it is. Uh-huh. No sir, I’ve not spoken to the governor personally. You have? Ok…uh…ok. I have protocols to follow Mr. Mayor. I can’t just go waiving those willy-nilly because somebody made a few phone calls. Yes sir. I’m gonna do that. Uh-huh. Going to call him right now. Ok, then. Bye.”

  Officer Wilkes glanced up at the sheriff.

  “Chew your ass out?”

  Sheriff Green nodded his head and smiled.

  “Oh yeah – mayor had the big teeth out on that one. Chewed me up real good. Might have left a mark if I gave a shit.”

  Mac laughed at the remark.

  “You know, in another time, I would have loved to drink a few beers and shoot the shit with you two.”

  The Sheriff’s face grew serious.

  “That woulda been nice Mr. Walker. Unfortunately, those people out there seem pretty intent on telling me you’re a dangerous and volatile individual who th
ey plan to prosecute to the fullest extent of the law.”

  Mac’s brow furrowed.

  “What law? What are they saying I did?”

  Sheriff Green shrugged his big shoulders as he looked down at his cell phone.

  “That’s just it – they didn’t say. I’m calling Ted – the National Guard sergeant, see if he knows anything.”

  The sheriff again stood leaning against the wall with the cell phone to his ear.

  “Ted, it’s me. What the hell is going on with the trucks outside my station? Who gave the order? He called you directly huh? And what exactly are you supposed to be doing out there? You don’t tell me my job Ted, got that? You got to be kidding me. Don’t make that kind of threat to me Ted – I’ll bust your ass right now, got it? I see one hair of your head come into my station and you’re going to jail. That’s right. Just keep your ass outside and leave me to my own business. Thirty minutes? You think you can tell me…I don’t give a shit who called you! I mean it Ted, stay out of my station.”